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We drive down an endless gravel road. The sound of the ground scratching at the tires is the only thing we hear. The wind whispers over the dry reeds growing on either side, and in the distance, thunderclouds. We find the town -- abandoned farm equipment and a boarded-up house that says 'Keep Out.' Somewhere nearby, a rooster crows. The hint of humanity frightens us, like a shadow in the dark. We joke about boogeymen with meat cleavers, it starts to rain. The patter of the droplets echoes around us. We've never heard noiselessness like this before. We take only a few photographs, because our hands shake and our lenses grow moist. We get into the car and drive back. Again, that sound of gravel.